Shut up, refrigerator. Calm down, washing machine!

Friday

Dec 1, 2017 at 12:01 AM

By Shiv Harsh

My intellect seems to be slipping. All right, perhaps not quite slipping. But getting less relevant. Truth be told, the intellect of the entire world does not appear to be what it once was. Or, this might just be a dinosaur talking.

We have been ignoring the development of human intellect for some time, and focusing on the intellect of inanimate objects. Everything is smart now, but is everybody? Most folks I see in malls, in airports and on trains have their heads down, eyes fixated on plastic and thumbs working furiously to communicate with others. How about making a phone call, guys?

Well, I have several friends who have been lectured by their young kids, and have therefore invested in modern technology. Nothing wrong with that. Airbags are modern technology. But these friends are forever trying to impress their less advanced brethren. My son is smarter than your son, so I must be smarter than you. My refrigerator is smarter than yours, so I must be smarter than you.

We were toodling along in a car the other day when John spoke up. “Want to have a cup of coffee at my place? I have some neat stuff to show you.”

Why not? Always interesting to see how the other half lives. So off we went. John got on his smartphone. Hands-free, of course. Bluetooth? Maybe. Or could have been yellow tooth. I’m not certain. Though what the color of your dentition has to do with making phone calls, I fail to understand. Modern technology. They’ll probably come up with orange hands next. Makes a doctor like me want to offer some obscure medical condition as a diagnosis.

Anyway, John was talking. “Jennifer, tell Alexandra to turn on the coffee pot.”

“Your wife?” I asked.

“No, I wouldn’t dare to talk to my wife in that tone.”

“Then must be your daughter.”

“Nope,” he replied. “Same reason.”

“Oh, a cleaning service.”

John looked a little worried. “Yes, actually Jennifer is the name of our cleaning lady.”

“So what’s the problem?” I asked.

“Well, I was actually calling my home speaker. But I have forgotten its name.”

“And who is Alexandra?” I asked.

“It is a platform.”

I nodded. I was familiar with platforms. “Train number 194 to Boston will be arriving on platform 3 at 10:58.” Anybody who has ever used Amtrak has heard that announcement and hurried from platform 8 to platform 3. “You give names to platforms?” I asked.

“Not that kind of platform, silly. Alexandra is a skill. Or is it Geneva? Or Athens?” John was scratching his head.

He was rapidly losing me. “You have railway platforms at home. You make phone calls to your speakers. And you give names to skills. What am I missing here? By the way, what name have you given to your car-driving skill?”

John made some sounds of exasperation. “You won’t understand. This is all artificial intelligence. We have digital assistants at home, who can do small tasks for us. Who makes the coffee in your house?”

“I do,” I said.

“That’s so 20th century. I call Jennifer. Or is it Alexa? That’s the speaker. I ask it to tell Alexandra to turn on the coffee maker. By the time we get home, coffee is ready.”

“Do all your appliances have names?” I asked him.

“Pretty much,” he answered proudly. A little arrogantly?

“And do all your skills have names?”

“Of course,” he said. “These skills, or platforms, are developed by manufacturers to maintain some kind of efficiency at home. You call them with tasks, and they jump to it right away, and you save time, which you can spend doing more important things.”

“Yes, like watching cat videos on social media,” I said.

“You don’t have to go all snooty on me,” John said.

I stared off into space. John made a few more phone calls, instructing Andrea to do the laundry, and Patricia to draw the curtains. I was suitably impressed.

We reached his home to find his wife in tears. “Our TV is yelling at the washing machine. The coffee pot is hurling insults at the refrigerator. And, by the way, who is this Andrea that you asked to do your laundry?”

* Shiv Harsh is a physician who lives in Asheboro with his wife. Contact: harshsk3599@gmail.com. Twitter: @SHIVHARSH1 or his blog at www.shivharsh.com.